


An Ever-Changing Sea

by AubreyDorst



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Adriata, F/F, F/M, M/M, Original Character: Mer, Summer Court, tarquin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-03-02 07:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18806278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AubreyDorst/pseuds/AubreyDorst
Summary: The war is done and Tarquin is left to pick up the pieces of his court and his life. While he has everything; cousins who love him, territories he adores, subjects who respect him; Tarquin is still lonely, still alone.Mer is a free spirit, and always has been. She escaped the harsh fate of wing-clipping that plagued a lifetime of Illyrian warriors but that doesn’t mean she wants to fight. The sea calls to her and she finds herself in the sea-side city of Adriata. As she stays to build a future, what else will she find?





	1. Eyes as Blue as the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I’m really excited to delve into the world of the Summer Court and the mind of Tarquin. Keep in mind that there is very limited information on the Summer Court, it’s history and Tarquin himself. So I compiled everything I knew and expanded upon it. I’ve taken Adriata as a jumping off point and am trying to build the summer court as it is in my mind. I hope I do it justice and I hope you enjoy! (More info in the end of chapter notes if the explanation of the other cities is confusing!)  
> This will be a fun and new experience for me, writing characters and places that are virtually unexplored! I hope you enjoy and I’m excited to see Tarquin get his own happy ending!  
> Happy reading!

Tarquin

 

The smell of salt water overwhelmed him as he pried his tired eyes open. The sun shone bright through his window as it lit up the clear blue sky. Tarquin’s first night back in Adriata had been eventful, to say the least. While it was nice to be back and surrounded by the thick salty air of the ocean, Tarquin missed the simplicity of his small manor back in metropolitan Rho where he spent most of the winter. 

But here he was in Adriata, and not for long. Each year it seemed like Tarquin spent less and less time in his beloved seaside city. Most of his year was spent in Caserta, where a large stronghold sat deep in the busy city streets. He was never far from the water in any of his other cities, but here in Adriata he was right in the thick of it. His room overlooked the sparkling harbor, the rocky cliffs of the island falling away into bright blue seas that eventually led to the bustling city that surrounded it. 

The crisp teal sheets had felt like heaven when he finally had been able to tumble into bed earlier that morning as the sun started to peak over the horizon. There was much to do, but his time still had been dominated by  _ useless  _ socializing with the grumbling nobles of his court. Cresseida had arranged a ball for his return, pushing him around the large banquet hall from group to group so everyone could talk his ear off. 

The alcohol he had consumed the night before made it difficult to peel himself out of bed but the salty brine of the harbor called to him, sang to the power that thrummed through his veins.  _ It’s just another day.  _ Another day that Tarquin knew he could get through. So why did it feel so foreboding? Why was he dreading this day like it would land him on the wrong side of fate?

Wars had been fought and won and his life had been flipped and turned and twisted a million different ways in the past 50 years. From fighting to being thrown from service to becoming a high lord to fighting a fate-changing war on the frontline, Tarquin was ready for peace, ready to be done with all of it. But that wasn’t in the cards. It seemed as if there would be no slowing down anytime soon. There was work to do. Impossible amounts of work to do, and all the power that hummed through his body would be no help. It didn’t matter that he could winnow thousands of troops across Prythian or pull the sea from it’s tides. None of it mattered when Tarquin would be stuck in meetings all damn day for the foreseeable future.

He hadn’t taken advantage of the time he had gotten in his youth, time to just be  _ him  _ and enjoy everything that life had for him. He would have an eternity to live, but would it be long enough for him to do the things that  _ he wanted. _

Tarquin had been anxious to start a life of service when he became an Admiral for Nostrus’ fleet. He was raised as a prince, but always wanted more. He had always just wanted to get  _ out there  _ and do something. Tarquin had never expected that  _ he  _ would become High Lord. But when Nostrus and his family had been murdered by Amarantha, the power and responsibility slammed onto his shoulders like a boulder. What he would give to be that naive princeling, who could sit around all day staring at maps and dreaming, wanting out of a  _ boring  _ situation that seemed like a dream now.

Tarquin felt trapped and utterly alone, stuck in the sinking sand of the harbor as the ocean swallowed him up. 

But he would do it, he would get up and conquer the day like he had every other day. He had to do it, for himself, for his people, for his city.  _ They  _ all did it too. They persevered through everything to walk down the long road of rebuilding their land, city by city, street by street, house by house. Tarquin was lucky, he  _ knew  _ he was lucky to have the support he had and to have the power that being High Lord granted him. But damn, did he want a break.

Thin gossamer curtains brushed against him as he walked down the deserted hallway towards the large, ornamental dining room. His head was pounding and his heart racing in anticipation. Breakfast awaited, and where breakfast waited so did pages and officials and  _ Varian.  _ His cousin had been splitting his time between here and Velaris, ever entranced by the scary, silver-eyed minx. He had planned his time back to coincide with Tarquin’s arrival the previous night but must have lingered in Velaris a little longer than planned. Tarquin hadn’t seen him at the reception the night before so there was no doubt in his mind that Varian would be waiting to hound him with questions and orders over a hot plate of food.

Varian had been a faithful Captain of his Guard for years and was unbelievably protective of Cresseida and Tarquin, but Tarquin was more than happy to give him some freedom in this post-war life. It gave him immense pleasure to be able to offer Varian the opportunity of going back and forth between the Summer Court and the Night Court, even if it meant being around him and Amren. The thought made Tarquin shudder, he would never get used to the sight of them together. He was a High Lord with immense power but nothing made him feel like a squeamish teenager like seeing his cousin being so  _ mushy  _ with someone so….  _ not. _

Tarquin stumbled back a step as he rounded the corner into the dining room, it was completely empty before him. The space was utterly silent where it usually teemed with life and sound. The sight uneased him before his grumbling stomach urged him towards the steaming buffet at the corner of the room. 

After piling his plate with food and grabbing a cup of scorching tea, Tarquin settled down into the seat at the head of the table. It was strange to be here in silence, strange to look across at the empty table before him. 

Tarquin closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the smell of salt and surf mixing with the sweet smell of sugar that drifted up from the hot tart on his plate. This was what he had wanted, peace and quiet, a single second to just relax and be alone. So why did it set him on edge? Had it really been so long since he had been completely alone? Why did his stomach twist and turn so insistently, like his fate was tied up in this foreboding silence?

Loud footsteps sounded down the hallway and pulled him out of his thoughts. Tarquin let of a breath of relief and focused back on the plate of food in front of him. He recognized the gait of the person walking towards him, had learned the sound of his footsteps so long ago that Tarquin knew instantly that it was Varian heading his way. 

“Hello.” Tarquin grumbled through a mouth of food, knowing Varian would scoff at his poor manners. It made him happy, giddy really, to put Varian on edge. No one would argue with him or defy him in the way that Varian did. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air in a world filled with protocol and  _ duty.  _

Tarquin had tried not to balk at the ease in which the Night Court had interacted with each other, a true team and  _ family.  _ Tarquin didn’t have that. He had Varian and Cresseida by his side but he didn’t have  _ that.  _

Protocol was thrown to the wayside to favor love and teamwork and trust. Rhys and Feyre had court members who worked for them and dedicated their lives for them because they  _ loved  _ each other and respected each other, not because they were being threatened or coerced. Tarquin wanted that, more than anything he had ever wanted before. He wanted the ease and camaraderie that he saw in their court.

He would get it, he  _ would.  _ He just had to find his people, his tribe. They were out there somewhere, but Tarquin was just not finding them.

Varian stomped into the room, eyebrows arched in anticipation as he awaited Tarquins assessment. His arm swept out in a wide arc, motioning towards the empty dining room in sweet satisfaction.

“I knew you would be dreading breakfast, so I came early and hustled them all away.”

Tarquin nodded his thanks as his cousin piled up a plate of food and joined him at the large table.

“Where’s Cresseida?”

“Being ungrateful somewhere else, probably.” Varian grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Tarquin over his breakfast. Cresseida had been utterly drunk the night before, downing glass after glass of champagne as the reception carried on through the night. She had grumbled on and on about all the meetings and duties she had to fill, talking Tarquin’s ear off as her complaints matched his cranky thoughts.

_ He  _ didn’t want to attend to his duties any more than  _ she  _ did but Tarquin had felt utterly selfish to complain when people had been displaced and he had stayed comfortable in his multitude of palaces throughout the Summer Court.

“We have a meeting with the owner of the wharf in an hour. They’re looking for funding for expansion. They justify it since were getting more and more shipments of building materials. I told Lachlan that it would slow down once the rebuilding had finished but he wanted you to meet with the board directly.” Varian informed him through a mouth of eggs as Tarquin scraped at his own plate.

“Well if Lachlan thinks—”

“Lachlan is an asshole, Tarquin.” Varian interrupted, “He only shows any semblance of manners when you’re around.”

Tarquin rolled his eyes,  _ of course he was.  _ According to Varian, everyone shed their kind skins the second that he left one of his other capital cities. It would be a long day, especially with Varian in the mood he was in. At least he had been kind enough to clear the room for him, giving him some semblance of happiness to start the day.

“How was your visit in the city of stars?”

“No one calls it that.”

“Well, how was it?”

“It was good.” Varian rolled his eyes, a fine dusting of pink across his cheeks as he surely reminisced on his scandalous vacation. “What else is there to say?”

“What did you do?” Tarquin asked, his face wide with a mischievous smile. He  _ knew  _ what Varian and Amren were doing all month but it made him giddy to set Varian on edge.

“Tarquin, you need a girlfriend. Or a  _ wife. _ ” Varian grumbled, his eyes narrowed and seething. “You’re a gossip and a  _ bore. _ ”

“Yeah, yeah” Tarquin’s smile was still wide. He  _ missed  _ this. Being so at ease with someone, being able to push and prod at each other without worry over hurt feelings and broken ties. “I’ll meet you at the docks later. I want to wander through the city a little bit before I’m tied down to a desk all week.”

Varian grumbled a reply as Tarquin pushed away from the table and made his way back to his quarters. The sea air swam around him, making him feel giddy and  _ powerful.  _ Rho was pretty far inland, as far inland as any of his residences got, but it was far enough to feel the difference that the sea made to him. While Rho was a maze of rivers and canals, his powers responded differently to the sea. The wide, expansive ocean was never-ending and made his power feel as such. It comforted him in ways he never thought it would. 

Tarquin passed his chambers, already in comfortable day clothes and not wanting to adorn himself with any crown or royal emblem. Today he wanted to just be Tarquin, to walk around his city and enjoy it as it was. While that was impossible, since most residents knew him by sight, he just wanted to blend in. To be by the water and experience the city in all it’s glory before he was holed up inside some stuffy room. 

When he was down at the base of the palace, he winnowed from the island to the mainland that wrapped around the bay. His power thrummed excitedly and the wide leap over the stretch of water seemed to take nothing out of him. The docks were crowded and loud and bustling with fae of all different types. 

_ This  _ was where he was meant to be. As much as Tarquin loved being in Caserta and even his spring palace in Vieste, his time in Adriata was always a breath of fresh air. When he could actually  _ enjoy  _ it. 

Tarquin spent the least amount of time in Adriata because it was the one capital city he had that still remained under his cousins control. Caserta had been Nostrus’ stronghold, housing him and his beloved family who were all taken from Tarquin to soon. Rho was a metropolitan mystery that never housed any royals for the long term and Vieste was where Tarquin was raised, and where he thought he would stay forever. But alas, Tarquin, Varian and Cresseida were the last living members of the Royal family. So his cousins watched over Adriata and Tarquin split most of his time between the other three cities that he held strongly in his heart.

The sun felt amazing on his skin, warming him from the outside in. And no matter how rocky his first night in Adriata had been, Tarquin would  _ try  _ and enjoy his time here. No matter how little he had.

Vendors bustled around him, selling everything you could possibly think of. From fish to herbs to jewelry to weird looking rocks. Tarquin didn’t know where to look, he couldn’t take it all in fast enough. The energy of the crowd made him jittery, he felt  _ alive. _

Large ebony wings pulled his attention to the other side of the docks and he faltered, his mind jumping back to the war and to groups of Illyrians in their ranks. What was someone from the Night Court doing here? Was it the shadow-singer or the commander? It could  _ not  _ have been Rhys. He undoubtedly would have sent word of his arrival. 

He pushed through the crowd to investigate, surely something had to be wrong if one of them was here. Why hadn’t they contacted him? Why hadn’t Varian said something about them coming here with him?

The crowd parted at his beck and call, people pushing off to the sides to clear a path for him. The moment seemed to go on forever as he pushed closer and closer to the mysterious Illyrian down by the water. A head turned and long black hair cascaded over her shoulder as she came into focus.  _ A female Illyrian.  _ Tarquin had never seen one and felt like a fool to realize he had  _ never  _ actually thought about it. Of course there had to be female Illyrians, how else would the race be able to prosper in the winter court. But in all his time as a High Lord and Admiral of his fleet, he had never come across a female Illyrian. She was a stranger to him, probably just here to escape the cold, but Tarquin pressed on. He needed to talk to her, to see why she was here in his territory. 

She turned and looked at him, and a wide smile instantly lit her face. Her snowy white skin reflected the harsh light of the sun and a soft sunburn lined the bridge of her nose and her forehead. She was radiant, absolutely beautiful and enchanting with her jet black hair and strong dark eyebrows.

It was like she called to him, pulling him in her direction like a magnet, like he was a weak little planet and she was the sun that he was unbelievably tethered to.

Tarquin let his feet guide him closer and closer until he could reach out and touch her.

And as she looked upon him and  _ smiled  _ like a beacon, he knew what she was,  _ his mate.  _

 

~

 

Mer

 

The sight of the sea stretching out in front of her took her breath away, making her head feel light and bubbly as her stomach clenched in anticipation. She was  _ here  _ by the sea, in a land full of people she didn’t know and looked nothing like. She knew her wings would set her apart but she hadn’t thought about how  _ pale  _ she would be in comparison to everyone. It was a lifetime of being in the mountains, hidden from the blistering sun and heat of the summer court. But she was here now and it was like the world was singing in relief at the prospect of her being in the warm, inviting land.

Her mother had always known she would end up here, had told her stories of the sea and the sand and of the freedom that the warm inviting weather afforded it’s people. She just never thought she would  _ really  _ be here. And she  _ was  _ here. Very, very far from her home back in the Illyrian steppes.

The docks were teaming with life and excitement as fishermen hollered around her, tossing fish down onto tables and yelling prices at the people looking for a fresh catch.  _ This  _ was what life should be like.

Mer had flown here, had taken to the skies the second she could escape her sad, cold life and never looked back. She had passed through almost all the courts, stopping here and there to rest and recoup, but none had come close to the beauty that was Adriata.

The water shined around her, lighting up the world in a bright glow that reflected magnificently off the shining blue waters. The large city was shaped like a half moon, surrounding a rocky island that housed the most magnificent palace she had ever seen. It shone in beautiful blues and whites and golds and Mer felt like she was in a fairytale.

Her wings jostled behind her, pushed lightly by the crowd that circled her and Mer fought to push down the instincts that thundered through her body. She was used to being around Illyrians, who knew that brushing up against someone’s wings was a death wish. But she would do it, she would fight through the panic and fear to be able to be here, in this large crowd of people as the bustled around. Mer pulled her wings in tighter, hoping she could pull them close enough to her body to avoid the grazing touches of everyone around her.

She stuck out like a sore thumb, with her pale skin and dark hair and large imposing wings, but Mer actually loved it. The people surrounding her were her exact opposite and it made her giddy. Their dark skin contrasted their light hair color and made their bright eyes shine like jewels in the sun. It was surely a sight, to see her standing next to one of them with her deep black eyes and even darker hair. 

Mer knew what she was doing here, but she didn’t really  _ know  _ what she was doing here. She had left the Illyrian war camps as quickly as she could, knowing deep in her soul that she wasn’t cut out for it. She had avoided being clipped as a young female and had been lucky enough to be trained in ways that other females  _ longed  _ to be included in. But it wasn’t enough for her. So  _ what.  _ She was an Illyrian and had been trained, that didn’t mean she  _ had _ to fight. It wasn’t for her, wasn’t her destiny.  _ This  _ was her destiny, this was where she belonged.

But that didn’t mean that Mer was any closer to knowing what she was going to  _ do  _ here. How was she going to support herself? Where was she going to live? What was she going to do?

The questions were overwhelming and made her head swim with panic when she wanted to be filled with joy and euphoria. She would push it off as long as she could, ignoring the panic and terror until she couldn’t anymore. She had  _ skill  _ she was sure of it.  _ What  _ kind of skill she had, well  _ that  _ was still to be seen. 

Her mother had always known she was meant for more than blistery cold winters and harsh war-mongering males. She had named her Mer, after finding an old map that marked the wide expansive sea as such. She had urged her to learn how to fly and how to survive so she could  _ escape. _

Her mother’s passing had eaten away at her, but had been the motivating force behind her finally taking that step towards freedom and her  _ future.  _ Mer couldn’t be trapped, couldn’t live a life in a cold harsh world that suffocated her as much as it had suffocated her mother. So she had left everything she knew and came  _ here. _

Mer had heard from Illyrians who fought in the battle of Adriata how magnificent of a city it was. And if blood hungry Illyrian warriors could see beauty in a city, during a war, then Mer had had no doubts that it would be her new home.

And boy, it did  _ not  _ disappoint. She was  _ here  _ and everything was perfect. It didn’t matter that she had no where to stay and no money to her name. She was free and alive and felt like she could conquer a million things before the sun even set on her first day here. 

Mer had always felt a tug deep in her gut to go, and it seemed to pull her here. She didn’t know  _ why  _ but she didn’t particularly care. Mer always trusted her gut instinct, and it had never failed her.

Now here on this crowded dock, something shouted at her to  _ turn around  _ and look behind her. It instantly took her breath away and Mer was afraid.  _ Terrified _ . Things couldn’t go wrong so quickly, she had  _ just  _ gotten here. She couldn’t be met with trouble. Not  _ now.  _ When her future had  _ just  _ started. But no matter the reason, Mer listened to her instincts and glanced behind her over her stiff shoulder, tempted to hide behind her imposing wings. She didn’t see anything at first glance and willed her stomach to stop the somersaults that it was doing. 

But then her gaze snapped to  _ him,  _ he stuck out in the crowd like all the sunbeams were concentrated just on his large form. The thick crowd of people around the docks parted like he was a ripple in a still pond, pushing off to the sides to let him pass, to let him advance towards her. His eyes locked with hers and she couldn’t look away, couldn’t think of anything but _ him  _ heading her direction. His deep dark skin was warm in the bright sunlight, a surprising contrast to his stark white hair.

And looking at him advance on her, Mer felt  _ happy.  _ Happier than she had ever been. It was like fate brought her to this dock, to this land, to this moment so she could see  _ him.  _ Mer let the smile flood her face as he neared closer and closer to her.

Her wings rustled behind her and she had this sudden all encompassing urge to flare them out. The thought made her head spin. It was what Illyrians did when they met their match, when they  _ claimed  _ someone to be theirs. She couldn’t possibly  _ know  _ that before even talking to him, without hearing his voice or knowing anything about him.

But as this mysterious, gorgeous male advanced towards her, Mer could feel it in her bones. He was  _ hers. _


	2. Eyes Like a Winter Storm

Mer

 

It was like she could glimpse her entire past, present and future in his bright sea blue eyes. Time stopped and started and wrapped around her like the ocean breeze and Mer couldn’t get enough of him. Standing there in front of her, just as frozen in this moment as she was, as they took each other in, detail by detail. He was sculpted of the richest brown marble, a god among Fae as he stood tall and proud on the busy docks. People teemed around them, hurrying along with their day, unaware of the life altering moment that was happening here and now. His long silvery hair floated in the breeze, feathery locks obscuring his face before he quickly pushed them away with a strong, muscled hand. His light, loose clothes billowed in the breeze, snapping around his toned body.

He was staring at her with the same intensity that she stared at him and Mer wondered if there would be another moment in her long life that was as charged as this one. The world and everything in it would be a dull, muted grey compared to the sharp smell of the ocean and the warm grasp of his gaze on her. She moved forward, pushing lightly through the crowd that hustled between them. Mer was pulled towards him, absolutely entranced by the mighty male that stood before her. 

The pull that she had always felt towards the sea, it felt like this. It hummed through her body and radiated comfort and soothed her very soul. And this male standing in front of her, he  _ looked  _ like the ocean, like the foamy sea that swirled through her heart.

He looked shocked, utterly aghast as he stood in front of her with his mouth in a wide ‘o’. Mer wanted to laugh at how wonderfully astonished he looked as he watched her. The look had her stomach flipping and her mind whirling and she  _ knew  _ that he felt this too, whatever it was radiated through him as it did her. The thought made her smile grow wider and her steps more confident as she strode within reaching distance from him. She wanted to push a hand out, graze his arm, grab his hand. She wanted to run a hand down his smooth jaw and nuzzle her face into his sweat lined neck. He probably smelled like salt or wind or something warm like sunshine. Mer held back. She pushed down all the urges that told her to reach out to him, to be with him. This was a stranger, a beautiful and captivating stranger. But pure trust and faith in him coursed through her like she knew him her entire life.

“Hello.” He grumbled, voice low and rough in the din of the docks. The words like a gasp, a prayer. His voice was rich and sweet as a song, it hummed through her mind and bones and soul and Mer knew she could float away on a cloud of pure ecstasy. 

“I’ve known you for an eternity.” Mer said, the words escaping her lips before she could bite them back. He would probably think she was weird, socially inept, but it just came out. Her feelings pushed out her mouth without permission, leaving her bare her entirety.

“You have?” His wide eyes crinkled as a bright smile graced his face, his words riding on a small laugh.

She nodded, her head bobbing up and down happily as their eyes locked in place. She could get lost in those eyes, could stare into them like they were the sea itself. And Mer swore,  _ they sparkled.  _

“I feel it.” Her voice was thick with emotion as she patted her hand over her heart. “In here.”

He stood staring at her, this handsome man whose smile lit up the entire world. Staring and staring at her like she was the only person on this busy dock and she felt the connection to him like it was a rope tying them together. And he looked at her like, like he felt it too.

Mer looked to her left and spotted a small part of the harbor, a little ways away from the docks that was bare except for a few dark skinned sun bathers. Before she could say anything or he could refuse, Mer grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd, aiming for that small patch of refuge where they could talk without the mayhem of the docks around them.

She felt so confident and free in this moment, like she could grab the world by the arm and conquer it. And with his rough, calloused hand in hers, she felt like the world was right there in her grip.

Her mother always told her she was a force of nature, someone who could look at life with honesty and tenacity. But doubt wracked her mind always, a never ending stream of worries and fears. She pushed it aside, acted quickly and honestly to stop those thoughts that wreaked havoc in her mind. Mer had become used to ignoring the roiling in her gut that made her feel sick constantly. But being here and now, in this place, with  _ him.  _ It was like she could do anything, like those thoughts were a flower petal in the breeze of the wharf. 

Mer’s life had never been like this, so free and she wanted to take it all for it was worth.

“Who are you?” His words were soft as they finally reached where she had been headed, the roar of the docks just a low hum in the background. Mer dropped his hand like it was burning her, snapping out of her trance to be slapped back into the reality of where she was and what she was doing.

“I’m sorry. You must think me so rude.” While the sun had been beating down on her and her wings all morning, her face grew extremely hot and she knew she was blushing. “Mer. I’m Mer.”

The corners of his mouth drew up in a small smile before she moved her gaze to the water, letting him into this facet of herself. “I- I’ve always felt like I was destined to be here, by the sea.”

She wanted to look at him, more than wanted, she  _ needed  _ to look at him. But she couldn’t do it, couldn’t get her eyes to wander from the waters that brewed and calmed her.

“I never knew why.” She whispered, knowing his gaze was on her. Knowing her entire future hung in the balance of this single conversation. 

“Do you know who you are?” He asked, this male whose name she still didn’t know. Whose soul she should never be able to understand, but she did. She got him, like he was her, like he was a part of her. “To me.”

It should have bothered her, should have set her on edge to have that question out there. So bold and honest and life changing. But she felt it, felt the tug in the tapestry of her life, and it led her here. Everything she had ever done, everything she had ever wished for was just leading her to this moment here. Her future. And the words were easy, and the truth, and everything she wanted.

“Fated.” She nodded, “We’re fated.”

His laugh was light as he looked at her with an astonished look on his face, like he didn’t believe a word she said. And the fear threatened to hit her, what if he thought she was insane? Mer had just met him and she was pouring her soul out into his hands. Would he take it? Would he want it?

“Is it really that simple?”

It was. It could be. It could be hard. But her life had been hard so far, she was used to it. Used to the hurt and the fear and the shame. It had all been hard, every second of it. It wasn’t simple or easy, but it could be. And if it wasn’t, then it would be like everything else, the good times would be better. The hard times hard.

“No but-” Mer hesitated, her eyes drifting over to him standing in the hot sand and scorching sun. “It does not frighten me.”

And it didn’t. No, not really. Not in any of the ways it should be. She  _ was  _ frightened, but not of him. No, she was terrified of his rejection. Dread roiled through her gut as she thought of this feeling, this presence that he exuded being cut out of her life. What was she doing? She hadn’t known him for more than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime.  _ He  _ felt like a lifeline.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Mer blurted out, needing to know. Unable to handle the pained look on his face. This was it, the end of the beginning. Of course.

It had been too easy. Things had fit into place too quickly and seamlessly for this to happen. Rejection was imminent. 

“I’m thinking this isn’t real.”

His voice was light and his words pushed out with an air of astonishment. 

“Why?”

She could hear the worry in his voice, the disbelief. And it made hope rage in her chest like an inferno. She had to ask, had to know. Did he  _ want  _ this to be real? Could it be?

“Good things don’t happen to me.” He grit out, staring off past her back towards the sea, towards the wharf, towards the teeming docks and the lively scene that bustled around them. His throat bobbed and the words cleaved her in two. Good things hadn’t happened to her either, but that was life. That was just the way of things. But the way he said the words, the way his bright blue eyes darkened and his shoulders caved in. Mer knew, she would do anything to make him smile again, to make his eyes light up and his heart flutter.

She would do it, she would make good things happen to him. She could  _ be  _ that good thing. Couldn’t she?

He was turned away from her, his profile illuminated by the bright sunlight. Mer moved in front of him, forcing him to meet her gaze. What she saw there tore her apart; hurt, fear, apprehension, worry, a sliver of hope. The connection she had felt between them hummed, coming to life when she had taken his hand and pulled him from the docks. So she reached out for him, lifting up her hand to run a finger across his forehead, down his temple. She smoothed the pads of her finger over the crinkles that rested next to his eye, down his cheek to rest in the divot of his frown. He stood there, still as stone, his eyes not moving from hers. The rest of her hand unfurled to cup his cheek, pushing beside his silky hair to slide under his ear. Her thumb stroked his cheek lightly, every single movement was a blazing connection of fire and electricity and ecstasy. Mer could get lost in this, lost in him and this moment.

“Tarquin.” He whispered, his rough voice rumbling against the palm that she kept rested against his neck. “My name’s Tarquin.”

His name speared through her, like a question and an answer. It flew through her mind and into every synapse like molten lava. It flooded her senses like a tidal wave, until she was consumed with him and everything he was.

_ Tarquin.  _ Like a rope to her soul. And she didn’t realize she had said it out loud until his breath caught and a wide smile graced his full lips.

“Mer.” Tarquin replied.

And to hear it from his lips. It was perfection.

  
  
  


Tarquin:

 

She radiated happiness and her mere presence swept a blanket of calm over Tarquin’s entire being. His every nerve ending was jumping and screaming at her presence but he didn’t feel panicked, not in the way he always was recently. Is this what it was like to have a mate? Was she the key to Tarquin finding peace in his hectic world? It was as if he was flying and he wouldn’t have to touch the ground for a long time. His cares were torn away from him by the breeze that flooded the harbor. 

She spoke so eloquently.  _ Mer.  _ A surprised laugh fought to escape his chest, her name meaning  _ the sea  _ in the ancient language. It was as if her parents had known her destiny from the moment she was born, and by the way she stood confident in front of him, maybe she did too.

Tarquin was sure that the world was playing a trick on him when she calmly told him her name.  _ Mer.  _ It rebounded through his every organ, leaving devastation and bliss in it’s wake.

_ I’ve known you for an eternity.  _ The words were magic to his ears and his heart. He felt them so deep into his core that he could almost believe they were true, no matter how much logic disagreed. 

Did she know they were mates? She was obviously aware of the connection they shared but did she know the true extent of it. Tarquin bit back the words, afraid to scare her away or to risk the calm air that enveloped them both. 

Tarquin fumbled for words, not knowing what he could say or do to make this moment last forever. This refuge, this moment of peace and happiness and pure bliss that swallowed them up like the warm sea. She looked at him expectantly, like he had all the answers in the world.

“Do you know who you are?” He finally asked, quickly adding, “To me.”

_ Fated.  _ The words like a song, like a calling. She didn’t say  _ mates  _ though. But wasn’t that what mates were, two beings whose fates were so interwoven that they were destined to be together,  _ made  _ to be together. She said it like it was the easiest thing, like everything that happened to them before this moment brought them here. It couldn’t be that easy, it couldn’t be that simple. There had to be more, some sort of catch or weakness that would be taken advantage of before they could get to know each other. Before this could be anything.

Things had never been easy for Tarquin, life always had a way of throwing a tidal wave at every situation he faced. It wasn’t smooth sailing, it was being dragged into the undertow and fighting to surface. It was fighting for breath and pushing until you felt ready to give up.

A laugh finally escapes his lips and he knew he was looking at her like the biggest fool in all the land. His lungs pushed out the words before his mind can catch up. “Is it really that simple?”

“No.”

_ No.  _ Of course it wasn’t

“But it does not frighten me.” Her gaze landed on him and he saw the words for the invitation that it was.  _ It will not be simple, it will not be easy. But I will travel that road, with you.  _

His mind swam with a million different thoughts. Gods, this wasn’t how he envisioned this to go, nor did he ever really think that he would get a mate. It seemed far fetched and unworthy of his hopes and dreams. But here she was in front of him, looking so beautiful and calm and so willing to talk to him and get to know him and travel the long road with him. It was all too much to handle, too much to wrap his mind around.

Tarquin’s gut was screaming at him that this was all a fantasy, that he was still drunk on summer wine and having some elaborate fever dream. Even his morning with Varian was bizarre, entering an empty dining room like he never had before. His gaze shifted to the sea, the lapping waves and foamy shore. She had pulled him over to a more isolated part of the harbor, where the crowds were thinner but eyes still watched them greedily.

She didn’t even know who he was, or did she? Did she understand the implications of them together? Did she realize the life she was opening herself up to? The political games and hardships and stress of a life as a High Lord. Would she be cut out for it? Would she know how to handle this world of his?

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Mer stated, her voice strong but troubled, the sound of it instantly pulling him away from the calm sea in front of him and raging ocean inside his mind. 

“I’m thinking this isn’t real.”

He shouldn’t have said it. Tarquin didn’t even let the thought fester before it blurted out of his mouth. She had that effect on him, made him want to tell her. Mer made him feel like he  _ should  _ tell her. Like he could trust her implicitly. 

“Why?”

_ Why?  _ Why couldn’t this be real? Why should this be real? Did he deserve this? This pocket of peace in his crumbling world, this light in a never ending ocean of darkness. No he did not feel like his life was playing out this way, because it never did. Not for him. Things didn’t come easy. They hurt and they maimed and they pulled him to pieces until he had nothing left to give.

And so he gave her that piece of knowledge, that opportunity to go, to forget him and this and everything that could have been from this moment forward. He gave her the one thing he understood more than anything else. The one truth in his life.

“Good things don’t happen to me.”

And they didn’t, they couldn’t. Not in this lifetime, not after the war that tore this world apart. That he  _ helped  _ tear apart. And he couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t see this beautiful bright entity that had catapulted into his life and watch her walk away. Tarquin couldn’t take the devastation that would follow this blissful moment. And a moment, it was. It couldn’t be more than that.

Tarquin stared off into the ocean, his confidant. The thing that would always be there. He had a mate,  _ a mate.  _ But that didn’t mean anything. The sea, the water, the ocean. That meant everything. It was constant, the one part of himself that was unchanged, that stayed constant as the world shifted and ached around him.

She moved in front of him, her head a good foot shorter than him, but her wings, they blocked his view of the sea. Her eyes demanded his attention, tugging on his like a magnet. As he stared into them, the bright grey burrowed into him, like a stormy winter day. And when she looked at him, he could see the world. He could see a future, a bright one, a happy one. And it pained him, unlike any injury ever had before.

Mer saw that pain in his eyes, he  _ knew  _ she saw it, and it did not scare her. It did not shock her or overwhelm her. No. He saw in her gaze, in her gentle movements that she welcomed it, she knew it. She felt that pain and embraced it, loved it. She gave it hope and care and worked it into oblivion.

Her hand trailed across his forehead and down the side of his face, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. Her touch was gentle and loving and when she cupped his cheek and stroked it with her thumb, Tarquin could have melted into her touch, melted into her entire being.

It was so right and so easy and he wanted it, he wanted it more than anything he had wanted in a long time. He wanted to be selfish and greedy, just this once.

“Tarquin. My name’s Tarquin.”

Her smile lit up the entire world, made the bright day even sunnier. And he knew she saw the words for what they were, an offering, an invitation. Acceptance and trust.

Mer’s lips formed the syllables of his name, pushing them through her lips so they circled around him and kissed him like a light breeze, like a song.  _ Tar quin.  _

“Mer.” Tarquin smiled, feeling it deep in his heart. His soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Adriata is a part of Italy so I used other Italian cities to build the Summer Court around. Tarquin spends the end of winter and beginning of spring in Adriata, spending the least amount of time there because he had Cresseida and Varian at his disposal as the Prince and Princess of Adriata. Vieste is a coastal city as well, with wide stretching beaches and not as much of a busy city center like Adriata. This is where Tarquin grew up and where he spent the beginning of his life as the Prince of Vieste, before he became High Lord. Tarquin comes here for a few months after leaving Adriata. His palace/stronghold is in Caserta, where Nostrus (the previous High Lord) used to hold his seat. It’s a huge, grand palace in a city that is close to the shore but not as sea-side as Adriata. The palace is well known for their multitude of fountains and beautiful gardens. Finally, Tarquin spends his winters in Rho, where he had a small manor in a metropolitan area. This is his quiet getaway where he has little business to conduct and doesn’t live as lavishly.   
> Hope this makes sense and I will expand on these other territories more in later chapters when he possibly leaves Adriata <333 thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed.


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